


Sutures and Secrets

by Vizkopa



Category: One Piece
Genre: Doffy is fleetingly mentioned too, F/M, Law is briefly mentioned, Mild Blood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-01
Updated: 2018-01-01
Packaged: 2019-02-26 08:33:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13232004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vizkopa/pseuds/Vizkopa
Summary: “I’m going to take him away from this place. Away from Doffy, away from all of it… Come with us.”





	Sutures and Secrets

It was well after midnight when there came a knock at your door. You cracked it open, only catching a glimpse of your visitor before they pushed passed you, stumbling into the room to collapse in a chair by the fireplace.

“What the—Roci? What are you doing here at this time of night, are you drunk?”

That was when you saw the blood.

“Oh my god.”

You rushed to his side. He was ghostly pale, forehead damp with perspiration. You searched desperately for the source of the bleeding, tearing open his bloodstained shirt and turning him on his side. Your hands came away red.

You peeled away the clumsy dressing of the wound. It was deep, but not fatal. You breathed a sigh of relief. If it had been barely an inch lower, he would have been down a kidney. The blood flow had slowed, but not stopped, and more spilled onto your hands as you pressed the dressing back onto the wound to stem the bleeding. You didn’t even flinch. This was hardly your first time stitching up a battle wound. Hell, you were pretty sure your usefulness in the medical bay was the only reason Doflamingo even kept you around.

“What happened?”

Roci only shook his head, making a stabbing motion with one hand.

“Who did this to you?”

He shook his head again.

You pursed your lips. “I need you to press down on the wound. I’ll be right back.”

When you returned with your first aid kit, Roci had pulled out the notepad and pen he carried with him and was hastily scribbling down words. A second later he held the notepad up to you.

“DON’T TELL DOFFY” was all it said.

You scoffed. “Wouldn’t be the first time I kept something from your brother, believe me.” You settled yourself on the floor by his side and motioned for him to turn around so you could access the wound. “Not that I could tell him much even if I wanted to. You gonna tell me what happened, or not?”

Roci hesitated for a long moment, then seemed to make up his mind and reached for his pen.

“IT WAS LAW,” the paper said.

“The new kid?! Why on earth would he do something like this?”

A non-committal shrug from Roci.

“That poor child. I worry for him sometimes,” you sighed, uncapping a bottle of rubbing alcohol. “This is going to sting a bit.” 

You took his silence to mean he was alright, so you proceeded with cleaning the wound. As usual, he didn’t make a sound, though you could tell he was gritting his teeth against the sting.

“Okay, I’m going to have to stitch up the wound and I don’t have any anesthetic. Whenever you’re ready.”

Roci pulled a cigarette from the box in his pocket and placed it carefully between his teeth. His hands shook slightly as he struck the lighter once, twice to no avail.

“Let me,” you said gently, offering your hand. 

He placed the lighter carefully in your palm, his fingers brushing yours as he pulled his hand away. You suppressed a shiver.

He leaned forward, steadying the cigarette between his thumb and forefinger as you held the flame to the end until it glowed red. Smoke curled upward toward the ceiling as he took a long drag, eyes closing as the smoke filled his lungs. You wouldn’t normally allow him to smoke in your room, but you would make an exception for this occasion.

He looked to you and nodded, turning in the chair so you were once more face to face with the stab wound.

“I’ll try to be gentle.”

You made quick work of the sutures, tying off the last stitch just as the clock struck 2am. You wiped the last remnants of blood from the wound and leaned back to admire your work.

“Not bad if I do say so myself.”

Roci scribbled in his notepad. “THANKS DOC.”

You snorted. “I’m no doctor. Apparently, a seamstress was the closest Doffy could find. No matter. I do well in a pinch.”

You heard the scratching of a pen and looked up.

“I NEED TO TELL YOU SOMETHING. CAN I TRUST YOU?”

“Of course you can trust me. I haven’t told Doffy that you can actually talk, now, have I?”

He looked at you, shocked. He started scribbling furiously. “HOW DID YOU KNOW!?”

You looked at him pointedly. He smiled sheepishly and held up a finger to wait a moment.

You weren’t quite sure what he was doing, but it felt as if a thick, fluffy blanket was being wrapped around the room. You felt a strange pressure, as if you were underwater, and then suddenly it was gone, leaving behind an odd taste to the air.

“It should be safe to talk now,” he said and you realised it was your first time ever hearing his voice. You liked it, you decided. You wanted to hear more of it.

“A Devil Fruit user too? Well, you’re just full of surprises, aren’t you?” You realised when you spoke that there was no echo. The effect was alien, unnerving.

“Sorry,” he said bluntly. “How did you know I could talk?”

“You know, I always suspected it, but… to think I was right all these years.” You stood up and slapped him suddenly on the arm—in jest, but perhaps harder than would be acceptable for jesting. “Why the hell did it take you so long to tell me, you dolt?”

“I didn’t know if I could trust you!”

“How many times have I treated your wounds? How many time have I _saved your life_?”

“I’m sorry,” he said, earnestly this time. “I should have told you a long time ago.”

“Damn right, you should have.” You sat down heavily in the loveseat across from him. “Any more secrets you’d like to share with me?”

“Actually, yes.”

“Why am I not surprised?”

“It’s about Law.”

You leaned forward. “What about him?”

“I… I’ve grown rather fond of the boy.”

You blinked at him, incredulous. “He just _stabbed_ you.”

“I know. But I don’t believe it was out of spite. He has no sense of self-preservation. He’s reckless. He thinks he can’t be saved so there’s no point in delaying the inevitable, you know?”

“You think he can be saved.” It wasn’t a question.

“I _know_ he can, [Name]. Surely there’s a doctor out there _somewhere_ who can—”

“And what if he doesn’t want to?”

Roci looked shocked. “Why wouldn’t he?”

“Roci…” You paused, unsure how to continue. You shook your head, dispelling the dark thoughts. “Even if it were possible, what happens when you run out of time? What if… What if before you even find a cure, he…” You trailed off at the look of determination on his face. It was like nothing you had ever seen before.

“I’m going to save that boy, [Name]. Whatever it takes, I’ll do it. I won’t—I _can’t_ —let him follow in my brother’s footsteps. I won’t have that boy become a monster!”

You both fell silent in the aftermath of his vow. What more could you even say? There was no use trying to convince him otherwise, you could see that now. You found his resolve admirable.

“[Name]?”

“Yes, Roci?”

He hesitated for a moment, then appeared to make up his mind. “I’m going to take him away from this place. Away from Doffy, away from all of it…” He leaned across the space between you and took your hand. Warm, brown eye searched yours, imploring. “Come with us.”

You were rendered speechless once again. “Roci…”

“Please.”

“He’ll kill me,” you said, barely loud enough to hear over the crackling fire. “He’ll kill all of us.”

“Do you really think your chances will be any better if you stay?”

“Yes.”

“But—”

“Here I can be of use. As long as I stay quiet and do my job, Doffy protects me. Call me a coward if you will, but I know if I leave, I’m as good as dead. Here, at least I have a fighting chance.”

The disappointment in Roci’s expression hurt you. Far more than any secrets he’d kept from you.

He swallowed. “If… if you stay… You know we’ll likely never meet again.”

“Not unless there’s an afterlife,” you joked, but there was no humour in it. Your words fell flat, striking just a little too true.

It seemed like an age before Roci spoke again. “If you change your mind…”

“I won’t.”

“But if you do,” he insisted. “Don’t leave it too late, okay?”

You squeezed his hand. “Okay.”

You sat in silence until the fire burned low and the morning sun crested the horizon in the distance. Neither of you knew it yet, but your fates—diverging faster now than ever—had been set in stone that night. Perhaps things would have been different if you’d only given him a different answer. Perhaps not.

That was one secret the universe would never tell.


End file.
